


Love in the Month of Timber

by windsweptfic



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Background Corvo/Daud, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Royal Spymaster Daud (Dishonored)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 22:05:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15058799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsweptfic/pseuds/windsweptfic
Summary: Sometimes, being able to spend even the smallest amount of time together can be enough.





	Love in the Month of Timber

**Author's Note:**

> Literally anyone: *shows vague interest in Thomas/Geoff*  
> Me: COME, GIVE ME A CHANCE TO CONVERT YOU.
> 
> AU where Daud took on the duties of Royal Spymaster after DH1 and dragged his ~~kids~~ Whalers along with him. 
> 
> Geoff and Thomas are Tired, but also in super adorable sappy love. They make it work.

"Do I need to lock you out of your office?"

Geoff lifted tired eyes from the document on his desk, blinking muzzily at the blob in the doorway that vaguely resembled the Royal Protector. He leaned back in his chair, wincing at the popping of his spine as he straightened up and scrubbed at his eyes

"I haven't been here that long," he lied halfheartedly, squinting until the formless amoeba resolved into something more Corvo-shaped. "And I'm almost done, anyway," he added, still lying.

Corvo made a skeptical sound in the back of his throat, tilting his head to one side as he studied Geoff keenly. An empty pot of coffee sat on the edge of the desk, and while the piles of forms and reports were neatly arranged, they still rose higher than his long-drained mug. He'd discarded his uniform jacket hours earlier and his tunic was rumpled, hair a mess from running his fingers through it--and, occasionally, tugging at the unfortunate locks in sheer despair.

Geoff usually made sure to appear as composed as possible, fully aware of the scrutiny he was under--as Commander of the Watch, as descended from Serkonos, as someone who had been born to nothing--but three days of damage control after a riot in the Distillery District left dozens wounded or dead had long since burned away the energy necessary to maintain his normal facade. 

_Even the maids have started to notice. The last one who brought me coffee had to be bribed into leaving the carafe._

"...I'll stop soon?" Geoff eventually offered, fidgeting under Corvo's intent gaze. 

The Royal Protector quirked a smile, the stern set of his shoulders softening.

"Alright. But I'm going to give the pups blanket permission to act in your best interests, forcibly or not."

Geoff rolled his eyes, huffing a laugh. It had taken Corvo almost a year after forcibly recruiting the Whalers to finally stop calling them 'the assassins'--usually accompanied with a twist of his lips and a glare at their new Royal Spymaster--despite Daud purposefully leaving the name behind. The court had taken to referring to them as the Spymaster's Hounds instead, and while the appellation stuck, Corvo's usage of it had gentled to something more fond as time passed. 

They were approaching nearly five years since Emily had become Empress, and while the initial integration of the Whalers into the Tower had been downright hostile, they'd eventually become a presence that was almost a comfort. 

Only half of them actually stayed in residence: quiet shadows clad in Spymaster crimson whose eyes watched everything, two of which accompanied the Empress at all times. The rest remained unknown faces, planted in every level of society, gathering information across the Isles that all made its way back to the Spymaster's desk.

"One in particular was quite keen on removing you from your office," Corvo added slyly.

Geoff was a grown man with years of experience and command of the entire Watch, entrusted with the security of Dunwall. He definitely did _not_ smile like a sap at just the mention of his lover's consideration.

Even if Corvo's sparkling eyes spoke otherwise.

"I've been pretty neglectful these past couple days," Geoff admitted, not without a heavy measure of guilt. The first night after the riot, he'd slept on the couch in his office. The second he'd made it home long after midnight, catching a bare few hours of sleep before dragging himself back to work, too exhausted to even appreciate the comfort of the solid body curled against his. 

And he'd spent nearly the entirety of today in the Tower, fielding a constant stream of crises and complaints, now long overdue for the dinner he and Thomas always tried to share at the end of every week.

_This is the third time in a row I've missed. Last week it was because of the mess over at Parliament; before that there was the security fuckup with the Tyvian ambassadors--_

"He wasn't angry," Corvo said, halting Geoff from tumbling down that spiral before he could gain speed. "Just concerned."

Geoff nodded wordlessly, twining his fingers together in front of him. He heard Corvo huff and cross the room; a strong, scarred hand curled around his shoulder, squeezing gently.

"He won't mind that you're late," Corvo said, quiet and reassuring. "Believe me. Sometimes being able to spend even the smallest amount of time together can be enough."

Geoff glanced up, taking in Corvo's soft, wistful smile. 

The relationship between Royal Protector and Spymaster bordered on incomprehensible for most people; not many could understand how the two men could even coexist together, given their bloodied past. But Geoff had borne witness to their steady, inexorable shift from grudging work acquaintances to hesitant friends--and, eventually, to devoted lovers. He knew how their duties kept them apart so often, and that if anyone understood having to settle for stealing moments around their partner's schedule, it would be Corvo. 

He looked back down at his desk, the stacks of paper probably the same height--if not higher--as they were when he began.

"I suppose this will all still be here in the morning," he admitted. 

"Try not to think about it too much," Corvo advised. He stepped back to allow Geoff room to stand, tilting his head toward the door. "Go on, enjoy your evening. And get some actual sleep for once."

"Hypocrite," Geoff observed. 

Corvo flashed him a grin and didn't disagree.

The city railcars had long since stopped running and Geoff didn't want to make a fuss about calling a private one, so he set out from the Tower on foot. It wasn't a cold night, and finally getting to stretch his legs after being cooped up in his office was a relief. But exhaustion settled on his shoulders like a physical weight, and he spent most of his attention focusing on just putting one foot in front of the other.

And for once he didn't even mind the flickers that darted across the rooftops above, idly wondering what poor novice Thomas had assigned to watch over him this time. It was usually a point of contention between them, but tonight Geoff was just grateful that he didn't have to stay on guard as much as he normally did.

He briefly entertained the idea of calling the Hound down and having them transverse him across the city, but that was probably an abuse of power, and the magic usually left him nauseous, anyway. 

Geoff did make sure to acknowledge his tail once he got home, however, offering a vague salute toward the eaves of the house across the street that was met with a quiet, distant squawk of surprise. 

"That's two days remedial drills for getting caught," a wonderfully familiar voice called from the roof. Geoff slipped inside with a smile and a shake of his head, shedding his coat and sword belt as he headed through the house and up the stairs.

Thomas was sitting on a blanket atop the roof, an unopened bottle of whiskey in one hand and a basket of food next to him. There were candles scattered around--actual _candles_ , not whale oil lamps and their thick, oily stench--and when he turned to look at Geoff, a brilliant smile curved his lips.

Geoff's heart swelled near to bursting in his chest.

_Three years together now, and I'll never be tired of seeing that smile._

"Please tell me you haven't been waiting this whole time," he said, drawn over to his lover like a moth to flame. Thomas chuckled and patted the ground next to him.

"One of the patrols let me know you were on your way," he reassured, wrapping an arm around Geoff's shoulders as soon as he sat down, pulling him in to press a soft kiss to his temple. "I haven't been up here long."

"That's good." Geoff sighed, turning to tuck his face into Thomas' shoulder. "I'm sorry I've been so distracted lately..."

"Hey, none of that," Thomas interrupted, tone reproving but gentle. "Daud's been running _us_ ragged the past few days; I can't imagine what it's like with the Watch right now. At least _we_ don't have to deal with the populace."

Geoff shrugged noncommittally, refusing to compare his drudging hours of paperwork to the Hounds' tendencies to throw themselves off of tall buildings at high velocity. Still, he went easily when Thomas' fingers brushed against his chin, tilting his head up to press their lips together. He got a little nip that indicated his self-deprecation hadn't gone unnoticed; the chiding was a familiar exchange, and he huffed a laugh against his lover's mouth.

When Thomas pulled back, his eyes were bright and impossibly tender.

"So, join me for dinner?"

"I think it's closer to breakfast at this point," Geoff replied wryly.

He leaned against Thomas' side as he pulled slabs of cured meat and cheese, a half-loaf of bread--still warm; he really _hadn't_ been waiting that long--and fresh pears from the basket. A small knife appeared in his hand as he began deftly cutting the fruit into equal portions, offering them to Geoff on the flat of the blade.

If Geoff hadn't been so damned exhausted, the little display probably would have stirred more than just the warm fondness in his chest. As it was, he simply relaxed and allowed Thomas to feed him with grateful indolence: the tension slowly draining from his muscles, the clamor in the back of his mind finally quieting to blessed stillness. 

Eventually he managed to scrape together enough energy to move, sitting up properly to help Thomas with the rest of the food. They ate in companionable, affectionate silence, passing the bottle of whiskey between them as they looked out over Dunwall's smoggy skyline. The city glowed with the illumination of street lamps and shuttered windows; with the floodlights from Kaldwin's Bridge, and the Clocktower far off in the distance. 

Dunwall was a bit of a mess, even on the best of days, but it was _their_ city. Theirs to watch over, theirs to protect; theirs to, occasionally, strongarm back into some semblance of order.

With his belly full and the alcohol rolling warm through his limbs, Geoff shifted closer to Thomas, resting his head on his shoulder with a quiet hum.

"I don't think I could do this without you," he mumbled, tongue loose and sleepily honest. "The Watch, my job, this city... I couldn't get through the day without knowing you were there."

"You say that about your coffee in the morning," Thomas pointed out amusedly. 

Geoff rolled his eyes and dug an elbow into his lover's ribs, eliciting a yelp that was more show than anything else. 

"Don't be cheeky," he said reprovingly, using much the same tone as he would on a junior guard. "I'm being serious."

Thomas chuckled, low and rumbling, the sound more addictive than any kind of vice.

"I know," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Geoff's head. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

Geoff grumbled as his makeshift pillow shifted, insistent hands pulling him to his feet. He swayed slightly once upright, both the alcohol and the exhaustion hitting at once, but he felt a little mollified when he saw that Thomas seemed equally wobbly. They left the remnants of their meal to the crows and made their way carefully down the stairs, leaning onto each other for support. 

When they stumbled into the bedroom Geoff barely paused to tug off his boots before pitching face-first into bed, moaning quietly as the soft mattress gave beneath his weight. The bed dipped beside him; as soon as Thomas settled, Geoff scooted over to wrap an arm around his waist.

Deft fingers combed through his hair as he pressed his face into the warm skin of his lover's neck, the soothing motions and tender touch lulling him gently towards sleep.

"It's the same for me, you know," Thomas said quietly, eventually, catching Geoff just on the cusp of wakefulness. His voice was barely more than a whisper, breathed soft and secretive between them. "I can't imagine my life without you in it. I don't _want_ to imagine my life without you in it."

Geoff nuzzled closer, thinking drowsily about the small box tucked away in the bottom drawer of his desk.

_You'll never have to._


End file.
